Holly's Christmas Gift
Page 28
‘But it’s my job,’ Jude smiled.
‘And you let me be part of it, and that’s not something I’ve been able to do much of in the past. Anyway, you can’t refuse it, as it’s a present and nobody ever turns down one of those. That would just be rude.’ And he laughed as he pulled the wig from his head and ruffled his hair. His eyes sparkling as he tugged the ridiculous straw skirt from his waist, he walked over to join her on the plush carpet.
‘You’re insufferable! Do you know that?’ she said, and then quickly added, ‘but in a lovely, nice way … I know that now,’ when his face momentarily dropped.
Silence followed as they stood together, watching the sun glimmer in between the trees outside. Then Myles turned towards Jude and pulled an envelope from the pocket of his shorts and handed it to her.
‘What is it?’
‘Open it and see,’ he said, grinning from ear to ear.
‘I don’t believe it.’ Jude scanned the letter inside. It was from Maggie!
Dear Jude,
I’m so looking forward to seeing you soon. Please thank that kind young man of yours for calling me and arranging such a lovely surprise.
Until then, lots of love,
Maggie x
‘What? But how?’ She read the letter again, dumbfounded, and then looked at Myles. ‘This is amazing. You called Maggie and organised it all?’ Nobody had ever done anything like this for her before. Certainly not a man.
‘Yup,’ Myles nodded, and then added, ‘with a bit of help from your dad.’ He shrugged.
‘My dad?’ Jude was almost speechless. ‘When did you see him? And, more to the point, how did you know about Maggie?’
‘I asked your dad when he was here painting the walls around the swimming pool,’ Myles started, all matter of fact. ‘“What would be the best surprise for Jude?” And he said, “Probably to see Maggie.” So I sorted it.’
‘Just like that.’ Jude felt overwhelmed as she shook her head in disbelief, her heart lifting at the prospect of giving Maggie a hug.
‘Yes, just like that,’ Myles laughed. ‘So does this mean I can have a kiss?’ Jude looked at him, his blond hair flopping forward, his sapphire blue eyes eager for her answer. And how could she refuse? The cocky, belligerent rock star was actually a very nice, kind, generous and thoughtful guy once you really got to know him. So she stood up on her tiptoes, inhaled his intoxicating scent and planted a kiss on his lips, wrapping her arms around his taut bare chest as his mouth lingered on hers, making a mountain of fireworks whoosh and explode inside her. Then, moments later, the opening line to that old country classic, ‘Islands in the Stream’, was blaring out through the many speakers erected around the estate. And Jude untangled herself from his embrace.
‘Perfect timing. I love this song, Such an uplifting yet romantic tune,’ she told him with a flourish.
‘I thought you might.’ And Myles grinned before pulling her in for another sumptuously long, lingering kiss.
*
Meanwhile, in another part of the estate, Holly fumbled inside her swimming bag, remembering the plastic karaoke microphones that Myles had given her when they had chatted on that evening. She grinned at the memory of the deal they had struck … him telling her a secret, after they had eaten fish and chips and she was feeling much better. Myles told her that he had a big crush on her Aunty Jude. And it made her giggle, especially when he had asked her for advice … he was a rock star after all. So she had told him that he really should already know about girls and how to make them want to kiss him and all that. Holly had then confided in him about the wish. Her Get Mum and Dad Back Together in Time for Her Birthday plan too … and how it hadn’t really worked out.
But there was still time!
So, with this in mind, Holly wiggled her way in between her parents so they were standing either side of her while they waited for the traditional May Fair tug-of-war battle to start. And then, after counting to three, she turned around in front of them, whipped the microphones from her pocket and thrust them into her parents’ hands. Just as she and Myles had planned. Right on time. As Dolly Parton and Kenny Rogers reached the chorus bit. Holly had told him all about the song and her happy memories of Mum and Dad dancing and swooning along to it together. As far as she was concerned it was also the most perfect moment for him and Jude to kiss. And now she was going to make her mum and dad do it too. After they had joined in the song and had a laugh like they always had in the past.
‘Sing. Sing. Sing,’ she laughed, nudging her best friend, Katie, to join in, which she did, of course.
With the two young girls chorusing them on, Sam gave Chrissie’s hand a squeeze as he searched her eyes to see if she was up for it. She hesitated, only momentarily, before lifting the microphone to her lips to sing. Sam, knowing how much this moment meant to Holly, put his heart and soul into the performance before scooping Chrissie up into his arms for the final chorus. When, to his overwhelming delight, she placed her arms around his neck and pressed her warm lips on to the side of his neck as he twirled her around and around all the while singing along to Dolly and Kenny.
And Holly thought her own heart really was going to burst right out of her chest this time, into a million, trillion, tiny, fluttery pieces of pure joy. Because seeing her mum and dad so happy together again meant the wish really did have a chance of coming true now …
Epilogue
A year later
‘Go on then,’ Tony said, tapping the envelope that Jude had in her hand. The whole family had waited for what felt like an eternity for this day to arrive. They had already found out that he wasn’t a match for Holly. Tony was a blood group A, the same as Sam, but Jude was an O, and therefore able to go on to the next stage for testing.
‘I can’t,’ her voice quavered, as she nudged her dad in the arm, for she so hoped that she could do this for Holly. For her best friend, Chrissie, too, and her new brother, Sam. Their dad. And her whole family. Give them all the peace of mind of knowing that Holly would be OK, no matter what the future held for her.
‘Shall I open it for you, love?’ Tony offered, gently.
‘It’s OK. I can do this.’ She nodded and pushed the tip of her fingernail under the flap of the envelope, silently wishing the contents would be the news they all hoped for. ‘One. Two. Three.’ She pulled the letter out and read it as fast as she could, all the while holding her breath. Tears prickled in her eyes, making her vision all filmy. But there was no mistake.
She was a perfect match.
Blood and tissue.
One hundred per cent.
*
In another part of Tindledale, in the kitchen of The Forstal Farmhouse, Holly was laying the table for lunch. Knives, forks and spoons for eight people. Everyone was coming over to celebrate her fifteenth birthday. Granny Dolly and Colin, Aunty Jude, Granddad Tony and her best friend, Katie. Mum was cooking a special lunch for them all and was even making some sugar-free cupcakes especially for her. Everything was so much better now. The last year had been amazing. And she barely noticed the pump that was in her back pocket, silently but industriously working away, keeping her sugar levels stabilised. Dad had a new job with a construction company in Market Briar and was home for ever now. And Mum was happy again. Holly always knew she would be …
‘Holly, love. Can you give your dad a shout, please? I could do with his help.’ Mum was standing on tiptoes trying to reach the bag of flour from the shelf. Holly went to dart into the hall where Dad was hanging a picture up on the wall.
And then she stopped.
Holly knew Mum would keep trying to get the bag down. She was just like that. Still a bit of a control freak who never gave up. So Holly crept really slowly up the stairs, taking as long as possible to reach Dad on the top landing.
‘You OK, darling?’ Dad asked when she got there.
‘Yes, fine. I just wondered what you were up to,’ she said, coyly, avoiding his gaze.
‘Well, I’ve just finished. What do y
ou think?’ he stepped back to show her the framed photo.
‘Ahh, it’s lovely, Dad.’ Holly took a look at the picture of the three of them together. Her family. Mum, Dad, and her last Christmas day at Granny Dolly’s house, all wearing paper hats and smiling.
‘Great, isn’t it?’
‘Sure is, Dad.’
She heard Mum yell out from downstairs.
With her heart soaring, Holly grinned at her dad.
‘Come on.’ Holly took her dad by the hand and led him down the stairs and into the kitchen. Mum was all covered in flour, with a massive grin on her face. And in that moment Holly Morgan knew that her Get Mum and Dad Back Together plan had definitely worked for good now. And the wish her thirteen-year-old unhappy self had made that day in her bedroom … had now been granted. She had her mum and dad back together for ever … and they were all going to live happily ever after.
Acknowledgments
Dear Friends
I really hope you enjoyed The Wish. It touches on several themes that I love to write about – multigenerational family life, triumph over adversity and finding the courage to try again. Everyone deserves a second chance! Whilst domestic dramas, particularly with a child in need, can be poignant at times, I do hope The Wish warmed your heart too and left you feeling uplifted.
My first thanks as always goes to all of you, my darling friends from around the world, who chat to me on my Facebook page and via my website. You’re all magnificent and your kindness and continued cheerleading spurs me on every day – writing books can get lonely sometimes, but having you all there is like a wonderful family — our special community — and that is something very precious to me indeed. I couldn’t do any of this without you. You mean the world to me and make it all worthwhile. Thank you so very much xxx
Special thanks and gratitude to my long-suffering agent, Tim Bates, for talking a lot of sense and always keeping me calm. Honestly, the man has the patience of a saint! An abundance of appreciation to my editor and dear friend, Kate Bradley, thank you for the laughs, love and unwavering support right from the start, back in the day. ‘All riiiiiiiise ….’ . Of course, none of the other stuff would happen without the wonderful team at HarperCollins, especially Kimberley Young, Lynne Drew, Charlotte Brabbin, Liz Dawson, Emilie Chambeyron (special thanks for sorting out the fabulous photoshoot) and Katy Blott. Special thanks to my copy editor Penny Isaac. As always, I couldn’t write at all without my beloved Northern Soul music to evoke the right emotions, so thank you for helping me to keep the faith and keep on keeping on. Immense thanks to my kind friends Caroline Smailes, Kimberley Chambers and Rachel Forbes, your patience when I catastrophise, is what also keeps me going xxx Aly Harrold for helping me find my voice and Niki Lawal for helping me find my dream. Ruth Mackay Langford for posting a picture on my Facebook page and sharing the details of her gorgeous Aga, aka Beryl the Peril. Katie Ferguson for winning my ‘Name a Character’ auction lot to raise funds for the CLIC Sargent charity supporting children and young people with cancer. Kaisha Holloway for kindly sending the gift to my cheeky Labradors.
To my husband Paul, aka Cheeks. See, your time at medical school and knowledge of bio chemistry has come in handy after all. Thank you for your endless patience in explaining how blood grouping works, how they are inherited and who can donate to who. Any mistakes are totally down to me for being clueless and quite uninterested in anything scientifical. Thanks to my dad, the gypsy boy, for always cheering me on.
To my darling daughter, QT, not only the bravest little girl I know, but also a budding author too, for writing the original Magic Unicorn story that features in this book as Holly’s story. I’m so proud of you every single day, my love.
Luck and love to you all,
Alex xxx
About the Author
Alex Brown was born in Brighton, Sussex and ran away to London when she left school at sixteen, where she found the streets she lived on for a while weren’t paved with gold. After twenty years working in a variety of jobs as a live-in nanny, cinema usher, T-shirt printer, telephone operator, bank cashier, sat-nav voice recorder and beauty salon owner, Alex started writing and found she couldn’t stop.
In 2006 she won a competition to write the weekly City Girl column for the London Paper and her first novel, Cupcakes At Carrington’s, was published in 2013.
Now living in a beach house on the Kent coast, with her husband, daughter, and two very glossy black Labradors, Alex is working on her tenth book. When she isn’t writing, Alex enjoys knitting, watching Disney films with her daughter and going to Northern Soul nights, and is passionate about supporting charities working with care leavers, adoption and vulnerable young people.
Alex loves hearing from her readers, so please visit her website – www.alexbrownauthor.com or join her for chats on Facebook at www.facebook.com/alexandrabrownauthor, Twitter and Instagram @alexbrownbooks.
If you enjoyed The Wish, read on for an extract of Alex’s heart-warming novel, The Secret of Orchard Cottage …
PROLOGUE
Tindledale, June 1941 …
As the early morning sun sauntered over the apple trees in the orchard next to the cottage, bathing her bedroom in strands of glorious spun gold, Winnie Lovell tucked the last letter into an envelope and stowed it inside her handbag along with the others for posting later. Then, after replacing the lid of her fountain pen, she crouched down and swept the rug aside to lift a wonky floorboard to the left of the wardrobe and reached in between the rafters to retrieve an old wooden apple box containing her diaries dating back to when she was a little girl. Winnie placed the pen inside the box and took out the pressed purple violet one last time and held it up to her cheek, allowing herself a brief moment of contemplation before hurriedly secreting it all away back under the floor. She stood up and straightened her stockings in silence, reminding herself that this wasn’t the time for sentiment. No, absolutely not. Her mind was made up. Resolute. And there really was no going back now.
Winnie buttoned up her new khaki uniform jacket and straightened the collar, proud to be a part of the First Aid Nursing Yeomanry, or FANY as everyone said, and cast one last glance around the rose-print-papered bedroom in the eaves of the honey-stoned cottage that had been her home for all of her twenty years. She really would miss this old place, Orchard Cottage, a special place on the outskirts of Tindledale, the village where she had grown up. With its tiny school with the clock tower on the roof and the cobbled High Street, flanked either side with black timber-framed, white wattle-walled shops with mullioned windows, surrounded by lush, undulating fields full of hops, hay, lambs, cows, strawberries, buttercups and delicate pink cherry blossom in springtime that swirled all around like confetti in a breeze. All the familiarity, and there was a certain beauty, comfort even in the predictable, seasonal routine of a life lived in a rural village. But constraint too, and as much as she loved Tindledale, Winnie knew there was a whole new world waiting for her beyond the bus stop in the village square. Adventure. That’s what this was. She had waited her whole life, or so it seemed, for this very moment. She had already fulfilled her duties in the Women’s Land Army, teaching the city girls how to work the land. Luckily the base hadn’t been that far away so she had been able to hop on the bus home when she had leave, but this time it was different. As soon as the next part of her training was completed, she would go into the field and then who knew when she might next come home? But Winnie was determined to give it her all. Do her bit for the war effort. Her patriotic duty. And her parents had been so proud when Bill the postman had cycled up to the apple barn door to deliver the letter requesting her to report to the special FANY training centre located over two hundred miles away. Before war had been declared, the furthest Winnie had been was to Market Briar, the market town on the other side of the valley, and she had certainly never travelled on a train, which reminded her – she looked at the alarm clock on the cabinet beside the bed – it really wouldn’t do to be late! The next bus, on the hou
r every hour, left the village square at ten sharpish, and it was already nearly nine o’clock.
Winnie folded her new hand-knitted cardy into her suitcase – made especially for today with some wool unravelled from an old blanket. Make do and mend! That’s what all the women in the village were chatting about, along with ‘beauty is your duty’. So she checked her hair and make-up then applied a little more lipstick in Scarlet Pimpernel – having swapped a stick of liquorice and a book for a selection of tester sticks and a block of mascara with a couple of younger girls in the village. (Hettie and Marigold; one had an aunt who worked on the Yardley make-up counter in a department store.) She then gathered up her hat, gloves, handbag, suitcase and, lastly, the ugly gas mask in its square cardboard box with a length of string for a handle, and closed the bedroom door behind her. Winnie made her way down the rickety old staircase and into the kitchen where the homely aroma of a traditional fry-up greeted her.
‘Eggs and bacon for you, Winifred?’ her mother Delphine asked, with the hint of a French accent, lifting the edge of her apron to wipe her hands as Winnie slipped into the chair next to Edith, whose cheeks were flushed red like a pair of plum tomatoes from having been outside in the fields since the crack of dawn. As little sisters went, Edith – or Edie, as she liked to be called – wasn’t too bad. And Edie loved working in the orchards, crating up the apples and pears and tending to the horses, which was just as well now that it all came down to their father, George, and their neighbour, seventy-year-old Albert from three fields over, to keep things going, since both of their brothers had left the farm at the start of the war, having enlisted right away. Which was even more reason why Winnie was determined to do her bit. Yes, the Land Army had been fun, hard work too, but she was quite used to that, having grown up helping her father in the orchards. But now she wanted to do more; properly support the war effort like her brothers and saw no reason not to just because she was a woman. So after using every shilling she had, and with some help from her parents, she had managed to buy her uniform and was now ready to show what she could really do to help stop the Nazis in their tracks.